


All in the Rhythm

by TiaLewise



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Because they hot as fuck, But we calling it habaneroshipping now, Changeshipping - Freeform, Clothed Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Nightclub DJ AU, One Night Stands, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18358019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaLewise/pseuds/TiaLewise
Summary: Otogi gets more than he bargained for at his first headline gig - but he isn't complaining when the chips are stacked in his favour.





	All in the Rhythm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowchan93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowchan93/gifts), [Kittykaiba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittykaiba/gifts).



> This is all Shadowchan’s fault. Blame them, not me - oh yes, and the amazing artwork below is by them. You can see the original [here.](https://shadow-chan93.tumblr.com/post/184037915342/cover-picture-for-tia-lewises-fic-all-in-the)
> 
> Say what you will about The Path of Totality, but Narcissistic Cannibal was my fucking jam back in college. I saw Korn live at Download Festival in 2013 and I got fucking tremors I loved it so much – I hadn’t even meant to go see them, I was just getting burritos from the food stand lmao. Also I may or may not have used Skrillex as a whole for inspiration during Otogi’s set.
> 
> Other than that I know fuck all about DJing and despite my research I do apologise if any of this came out like total crap.

The thudding drumbeat and wobbling, distorted baseline reverberated like lifeblood in the veins of the revellers. Dozens upon dozens of writhing, heaving bodies lost themselves on the dancefloor to the euphoria of sharp, heady spirits and the funk of sweat. The night was young, yet the club was packed – and for the young DJ playing his first headlining act, he couldn’t have asked for anything better. Adjusting his headphones with his left hand, he swung the vinyl on the turntable back with his right; the merest brush of his fingers, but enough to respond to his will as though he’d been mixing his whole life. He glanced at his laptop screen, seeing the upcoming breakdown, and let fly.

The lights dropped with the beat – and slammed back on like a punch to the face as the crowd went wild.

Otogi grinned, wiping sweat from his face with his forearm. Suddenly all those years of struggling to make his name known on the scene felt so far away. From beatmatching in his bedroom, to opening for minor acts in smaller venues, to here, his own headline in Domino’s most exclusive nightclub – he'd made it. On top of the world. And with nary a drop of booze in his system to bolster his confidence so.

He took a swig of water from the bottle under the mixing desk, and adjusted his headphones again. The next track was coming up, the prelude beating softly in his ears to tell him to start adjusting the mixer. He glanced up at the crowd, his scintillating green eyes gauging their reaction – they were still having a good time. Perfect. One sat at the bar caught his gaze, the lights flashing over tawny-brown skin and hair the colour of dark honey, watching the set as if transfixed. Otogi flashed the young man a wink, and was met with a smirk and a raising of a glass as if to toast him. Otogi’s fingers raced across the dials and the crossfader as he returned to the desk, bobbing his head in time to the synchronising beats.

In came the hook, a sample Otogi had worked in over his own track. The crowd bellowed out the lyrics, captivated, and Otogi mimed along with them, unable to stop the wide smile spreading across his face. The nightlife was infectious, a drug he’d never wish to kick, a gamble he’d pulled out a royal flush on.

Still, all good things must end, and soon the set was wrapping up. One last fade-in, Otogi’s “see ya next time” to the revellers, for of course he’d be back one way or another. He’d rolled a super critical that night, hoping that his luck wouldn't run dry when it came to speak with the club owner, see if she would be happy to have him back. She’d seemed overbearing and a little intimidating when he first met her, with her lioness’ mane of hair and tone of voice that took no shit - but she liked to gamble too, and it paid off for both of them. One glance to the edge of the stage, where she stood watching, and Otogi knew he was in the clear. She flashed him a thumbs-up and nodded, sealing the deal without words.

His last track faded out, and he switched the audio over to the club’s usual sound system as he picked up the microphone lying to the side of the desk.

“You guys are fucking amazing.” Raucous cheers and much raising of glasses from the clubgoers, bar the young man Otogi had winked at, who appeared to have left. “I gave you the music, but you give the club its energy! I’ve been DJ Dice, enjoy the rest of your night!”

The owner, Mai, came up to the stage as Otogi started packing away his gear. “Nicely done, darling,” she drawled. “Same time next week, if your schedule fits. I want to see how you hold the regulars.”

“I’ll be here for sure,” Otogi replied. “Thanks, Mai.”

“Don’t sweat it. You did well tonight.” She turned on her heel and stepped down off the stage, calling over her shoulder, “store your stuff in the office upstairs and grab a few drinks! On the house!”

His throat certainly could have used some wetting after such a long, hot set, and Otogi never turned down free drinks. He cranked up the volume of the music, finished packing up, and headed upstairs to the office where he had first spoken face to face with Mai. A security guard punched the door code in for him and showed him where he could stow his laptops and mixers safely. “Good gig,” the guard remarked as Otogi came out from the office again, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Thanks, man!” he grinned, hopping down the stairs two at a time.

He snagged a free seat at the bar and, loudly over the volume of the music, ordered a light craft ale. The drink came tall and cold, a little cap of foam on top that Otogi sipped through, nodding to himself in appreciation. A few girls came over to chat with him about his music, one quite obviously flirting – he traded jokes and a few nudges with her, and the group downed a few shots together, but soon they were moving on, with the flirty girl’s number now saved in his phone. He didn’t know if he’d call her. Cute as she was, she wasn’t quite his type.

“She like you then?”

Otogi raised his eyes from his beer. The young man from earlier had sidled back up to the bar and was leaning on it with a cheery grin on his face.

“Huh?” Otogi stumbled for a moment, caught off guard. “Well, she just gave me her number, so - ”

The man threw back his head and laughed, though a harsh dubstep squeal drowned most of it out. “Who, Mai? The club owner?”

It dawned on Otogi that he’d meant the DJ set, and he laughed as well. “Yeah, she asked me back next week.”

“Nice. She’s notoriously hard to please when it comes to the DJs in here.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience.”

“Nah, just familial observation.” The young man winked at Otogi and then signalled the barman. “Mai’s married to my sister,” he added.

Otogi’s first thought was that Mai didn’t look the type to be into women. His second thought chided his narrow-minded upbringing. “So definitely no number exchanging, then,” smirked Otogi, sipping his beer.

A tumbler of scotch on the rocks slid over to Otogi’s new companion as he gave his credit card to the barman. He looked back over at Otogi, and for the first time, Otogi took note of his eyes; a distinctive, almost haunting violet, and outlined with dark kohl. Otogi’s own green gaze stayed attached to them for several seconds before he blinked and shook his head.

The credit card came back and the man tucked it into his wallet, then offered a hand to Otogi. “I’m Malik, by the way. Malik Ishtar.”

Otogi grasped the hand firmly, suddenly hyper-aware of the smoothness of Malik’s skin and the dark purple polish on his nails. “Ryuji Otogi. Nice to meet ya.”

Malik smiled at him as he sipped from his glass with his free hand. “Likewise.”

They separated a moment later. “Where does your accent come from, Malik?” Otogi asked. Malik spoke Japanese near-perfectly, with just the odd hitch or inflection in his voice indicating he wasn’t a native.

“I’m from Luxor in Egypt, though I've been over here a few years now.” Malik finally eased onto the vacant seat he’d been leaning over. “And you? That’s a Kansai dialect, right?”

“Yup, Osaka born and bred.” Otogi absently twirled a lock of dark, wavy hair round his finger as he spoke. A gentle buzz thrummed in his veins, relaxing from alcohol and pleasant company; as he finished his beer, Malik had another one brought over to him, as well as another scotch for himself. “Hey now,” Otogi protested half-heartedly, “I’ve still gotta lug all my gear home with me, I can’t get too drunk.”

“Leave it here for the night.” Malik never seemed to stop winking, his long, sand-coloured eyelashes fluttering the same way Otogi’s stomach seemed to be at that moment. “If it’s in Mai’s office, it’ll be safe, and she won’t mind, in any case.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Otogi laughed and picked up the new glass.

“That’s the spirit!”

As the drinks flowed and the men maintained their light-hearted banter, a slight giddiness crept into Otogi. Malik had been flirting from the start, that much was clear, but it seemed to come so easily to him that Otogi couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just his natural personality. In the end, he decided it probably was - but with the added brushes of Malik’s arm against his, or his hands, or his words a buzzing tickle in Otogi’s ear when the music became too loud for his voice to be heard...even tipsy, Otogi grasped his intent clearly.

To confirm, once the last of their drinks had been swallowed, Otogi reached out a hand, faltering a moment, before brushing his fingers through Malik’s hair, moving the soft strands over his shoulder. Malik raised his eyebrows at the motion, mouth twisting into a lop-sided smirk as he uttered a low chuckle. He seemed at ease with Otogi’s touch. “You wanna dance?” Otogi asked.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Malik grabbed Otogi’s hand and pulled him towards the dance floor, into the sea of writhing bodies. “Just try not to touch my back, okay?” Seemed a peculiar request, but Otogi would of course respect it.

Up onstage, behind a mixing desk, Otogi could bop away easily enough, but in reality, he had two left feet and he knew it. Malik didn’t seem to mind, though. He draped his arms over Otogi’s shoulders and swung his hips side to side, hair bouncing around his face; Otogi had to grab Malik’s beltloops to keep his balance. Malik laughed, bright and melodic, his movements guiding Otogi to the beat.

“I don’t dance much,” Otogi admitted. “Kinda suck at it.”

“Oh, hush, it’s cute.” Malik leaned a little closer, the scent of whiskey a pleasant lingering on his breath. “You’re having fun though, right?”

“Y-Yeah.” The way Malik’s eyes pierced right through his own made Otogi’s stomach quiver again. It was a good feeling, almost intoxicating, much like the alcohol flowing through their bodies.

Maybe a year had passed since Otogi last fell into bed with anybody – man, woman or otherwise – and he soaked up the tension in the air, relished Malik’s fingers teasing across his shoulders and down his chest, savoured the coiling heat in his loins; he’d hit the jackpot, his first headlining act a success, and potentially getting lucky to boot -

All gambling jokes shot clear out of his mind the moment Malik pulled a smooth 180, ran his hands through his hair, and ground his backside against Otogi’s crotch.

Blood roared in his ears, or was it the bass? A second later Otogi snapped onto autopilot. His hands found Malik’s hips again, and then they were moving together, not quite in sync, but fluid enough to keep a good rhythm going. A few stares came their way, some approving, others not so much – Otogi didn’t give a damn. The strobes highlighted the gold in Malik’s hair as he flicked it back, hands running down his body as he continued to roll and sway his hips back against Otogi’s.

More confident now the booze had properly kicked in, Otogi cast off his nerves. When Malik straightened up, Otogi allowed his hands to slide around and up, thumbs just barely brushing the hint of exposed skin above Malik’s beltline. He traced up further, sneaking beneath the black satin button-up Malik wore, feeling his warmth and the firm muscles rippling under his skin. He felt, rather than heard, Malik’s approving chuckle, as clear beneath his palms as the music pounding through their bodies.

Malik twirled around again, and slipped his arms back over Otogi’s shoulders. Their fronts pressed flush together now; sweat dewed on their skin, mixing in a foreshadowing of what was to come. Daring to be bold, Otogi cupped Malik’s ass and gave it a quick squeeze as he leaned in and murmured into Malik’s ear -

“My place, if you’re game.”

Malik’s broad lips quirked upwards in a pleased grin. He nudged Otogi back a notch, then -

Kissed him. Hard and fierce.

The hint of a shocked noise burst from Otogi, to be swallowed up by Malik’s voracious mouth. Kissing a one-night stand was, well, not something he ever thought he’d do, but here he was, in full view of everybody, closing his eyes and opening his mouth to let their tongues do passionate battle. His hands tightened on Malik’s hips, still moving against each other with urgent frequency. Spiced whiskey melded with the bitterness of ale, and they sucked it from each other eagerly.

When they broke apart, Otogi grinned to see Malik flushed and panting, a break in his cool and collected persona. Otogi raised a brow at him, waiting for a verbal response, not wanting to assume.

It didn’t take long.

“Lead the way, honey.”

* * *

They took a cab back to Otogi’s apartment, as it was raining heavily outside and neither of them had thought to bring jackets.

Otogi just about managed to shut and lock the door before Malik was dragging him in for another hungry, lust-driven kiss. Without the pound of dubstep in the air, it was easier to hear the grunts and growls that came from Malik as their tongues twined and their hands grabbed. Malik worked fervently on the buttons of Otogi’s crimson waistcoat and pulled the offending item off his shoulders to flutter to the floor; his black vest soon followed.

“Bedroom - behind you - ” Otogi stole quick gasps of air in between their volley of kisses. Oh yes, he’d hit the jackpot all right.

They stumbled backwards, kicking off their shoes, clumsy in drunken haste. Otogi’s room was nothing fancy, more a mess of cables and computer parts than anything else – he had the feeling Malik wouldn’t notice, let alone care. He allowed himself to be shoved down onto his bed, Malik clambering on top of him a moment later and going straight for his throat.

He inhaled sharply, groaning afterwards. Malik’s bites were firm, not painful as he had expected, and _damn arousing._ He started to suck the side of Otogi’s neck, smooth skin tanned the faintest hint of brown but colouring a beautiful red-purple under the coaxing of Malik’s lips and tongue. By the time Malik pulled back, his chin was wet with spit, and Otogi’s neck shone with well-placed hickeys.

“So how are we doing this?”

Otogi blinked a few times up at Malik, not quite understanding straight away. Once his drunk brain caught up, he shrugged. “I’m vers. Happy either way.”

Malik leaned down, speaking with lips brushing teasingly over Otogi’s. “Then I’m going to pound your ass into this lovely bed.”

A shiver ran up Otogi’s spine at the dirty words. “Deal.” He reached out and undid the first button of Malik’s shirt. “No touching your back, but can I open this?”

“If I can leave it on.”

Otogi nodded. Hyper-aware of his actions now, despite the drink – or maybe _because_ of the drink - he unbuttoned the shirt slowly, revealing a firm chest and the washboard abs he had dared to drag his fingers over in the club. He had a sudden urge to put his tongue there instead – and that’s what he did. Sitting up, forcing Malik to sit as well, he dipped his head down and ran his tongue over Malik’s stomach, tracing the outline of his muscles like a trail for him to follow, to lead him to his goal.

Malik’s skin quivered under his ministrations, a gasp coming from the young man – then he pushed Otogi down once more. Fumbling hands overlapped each other in their haste to pull their belts off and undo their zippers. Otogi rolled over and yanked open a nightstand drawer in search of lube and condoms, locating them just as he felt Malik slip his jeans down partway and -

“Oh, holy fuck,” Otogi gasped. The pad of Malik’s thumb, slick with spit, rubbed over Otogi’s asshole with firm intent, and he couldn’t help but roll his hips back into the delicious sensation.

“Yeah? You like that?” Malik said huskily.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

Malik chuckled. “Feisty.”

Otogi felt him reach over to pluck the lube from his hand. An anticipatory shiver ran up Otogi’s spine when the cap of the bottle clicked as it opened – then a cold, wet finger slipped inside of him and he dug his fingers into the bedsheets, gritting his teeth against the initial discomfort. Malik spread Otogi’s cheeks with his free hand, murmuring under his breath in what Otogi assumed was Arabic, _“Ertah habibi..._ try to relax, okay?”

“Been a while,” Otogi offered by way of apology. It was difficult to submit to the peculiar, probing sensation without also giving into the urge to push Malik’s digit back out. He took a deep breath, buried his head in a pillow to calm the dizziness spiralling through him, and relaxed his muscles as best he could. It must have worked, as the discomfort faded a little, and Malik gave a pleased hum before pushing in a second finger.

“Better?” Malik asked.

“Y-Yeah – _fuck - ”_ Otogi rolled his hips back and moaned at the scraping of pleasure along his nerves. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Malik adding a touch more lube and then starting to slip in a third finger. At that Otogi winced, the burning sensation making him quiver uncontrollably. Three was a serious stretch for him.

Malik paused, leaving his fingers inside, but ceasing movement. He leaned over Otogi, dusting soothing kisses across the top of his back and shoulders; his body heat sank into Otogi’s skin and soothed his muscles somewhat. “Sorry. I’m kinda big, so...d’you want to stop?”

Otogi shook his head, breathing deeply. “Keep going. I’ll adjust.”

“I don’t - ”

“Malik!” The cry came out more desperate than Otogi wanted, but he was drunk and didn’t care.

After a moment, Malik began moving again, spreading his fingers in a scissoring motion inside Otogi. Otogi hissed, trembling. Malik remained draped over him, keeping their bodies pressed close together, mouth sucking gently wherever his lips brushed. Gradually, the burn subsided, though the urge to push out remained; at the very least, he felt ready to go the rest of the way, and he let Malik know by rocking his hips back and moaning in pleasure.

“Mmm...that’s more like it.” Malik slipped his fingers out carefully.

Dimly, some more sober part of Otogi’s brain wondered if he should remove his jeans and turn over – was it going to be awkward fucking like this? As he registered the tear of foil from behind him, he figured it didn’t matter; Malik still had his own pants on, though he’d only slipped them down to mid-thigh and – _holy shit,_ he wasn’t lying about being big – Otogi was staring over his shoulder again at his partner’s thick cock as he rolled a condom down over it and coated with extra lube.

Malik saw him staring and smirked. “Believe me, it isn’t the blessing everybody seems to think it is.”

“I’m just wondering how that’s supposed to fit inside me.”

“Trust me,” Malik purred, leaning back over Otogi. “But if you need to stop, tell me, okay?”

“O-Okay.”

The head pressed against Otogi’s hole, teasing in small circles around the ring of muscle. Otogi lifted his hips, pressing himself into the sensation. Then Malik added pressure, and Otogi groaned as the first few centimetres slipped inside. He lifted up onto his elbows and began to push back, breathing deep to adjust to the burn searing tenfold through his body. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but just the knowledge of what they were doing, and the thrill, spurred him onwards. He knew it would get better; it always did.

“That’s it, honey...” Malik whispered. “Easy does it...you’re almost there...” One last push, and Malik sank in to the hilt. His nose nuzzled behind Otogi’s ear as they both panted. “Damn, your ass is _tight.”_

“Yeah?” Otogi chuckled. “Maybe you’re just huge.”

“Hmmm...a bit of both, then.”

“How modest of you.”

“Hey, I saw you eyeing up my dick – I know exactly how huge I am.”

“Bet you draw in all the boys with a monster like that in your pants.”

Malik nipped Otogi’s ear playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The banter helped Otogi relax a little more. He twisted his head to steal a kiss from Malik’s lips. “I think I’m ready.”

Malik circled his hips back, then forward, shoving deep inside. Otogi gasped loudly, moaning afterwards. Malik was unbelievably thick and fulfilling, stuffing him to his limits – and as they went on, as Malik’s thrusts grew faster and harder, he found himself pushing back further into the motions, no longer worried about being torn apart by his partner’s girth. They moved together with the same sort of fluidity as they had on the dancefloor, not quite in sync, but in harmony at the very least – and Otogi loved every second of it. The pit of his stomach ached with a deep, primal ecstasy, heating him up like wildfire.

“You’re so – fucking – tight - ” Malik’s mouth was back on Otogi’s ear, sucking on the lobe as his panting breaths washed hot over Otogi’s skin.

Otogi whimpered and moaned shamelessly beneath him, flinging his head back in a wordless plea for Malik to ravish him. His whole body might have been on fire, for all the sparks lighting up his nerves.

“Gods, Otogi!” Malik bit hard into the side of Otogi’s neck, sucking and raising one more hickey for good measure. He pulled back and grabbed Otogi’s hips to pump into him harder.

Every thrust set Otogi’s guts looping in a free-fall towards climax. A scream of pleasured agony burst from him, the violent thrusts slamming head-on into his prostate.

He couldn’t ignore the coiling heat in his belly any longer and propped himself on one elbow so he could grab his own cock, neglected until now, balls aching from want of release. He jerked as fast as he could muster, still half-drunk and lacking any decent rhythm – but it was enough, oh, it was enough, and he was climbing, climbing, _climbing -_

“Malik! Fuck! Malik! I-I'm – _ah!”_ One of Malik’s hands overlapped his at the last second, and Otogi’s cries grew to a high-pitched crescendo, cutting out into a gasp as he came over the sheets, their hands and his own stomach. Shivering and spent, he kept his hips moving, rolling back again and again into Malik’s thrusts; the slap-slap of skin and Malik’s harsh gasps for breath arousing him despite being satisfied. _Gods,_ he’d not had an orgasm like that before.

Malik was muttering in Arabic again, gasping between words and trembling against Otogi as his thrusts became haphazard. He gripped Otogi’s side with his left hand, his hair with the right, and moaned into his partner’s neck.

“Malik,” Otogi breathed.

“Otogi - gods, I’m coming...”

Malik bit Otogi’s shoulder and shuddered to a halt. His length pulsed inside Otogi’s ass and he sighed as the heat of Malik’s orgasm filled him. Then Malik was pulling out and collapsing to the other side of the bed, even as Otogi dropped like a corpse onto his belly, still too drunk and high off of the moment to give a damn about the mess on the sheets.

“Bathroom is down the hall,” he muttered into the pillow.

“Thanks.” Malik slipped off the bed and padded out of the room on shaky legs. Otogi’s eyes half-closed as he listened to the sound of water running in the sink and the lid of the waste bin opening and closing; Malik came back a few minutes later, shirt buttoned back up and pants back in their usual place around his hips. “So, uh...” Malik hesitated at the end of the bed, “d’you want me to go now, or...?”

Otogi chuckled, raising his head. “Stay if you like. I think I have a few t-shirts in the bottom of the wardrobe if you wanna change.”

“I’m keeping you.” Malik gave Otogi’s cheek a quick kiss and then hopped up to riffle through the wardrobe.

“Keeping me, are you?” Otogi rolled to the side and tugged his jeans off, casting them to the floor.

“Like it or not.” Malik snagged a Deadmau5 shirt and disappeared down the hall again. When he came back, he was in his boxers and the t-shirt; with his arms now exposed, Otogi caught a glimpse of gold bangles around his upper arms and a silver bracelet on his left wrist. Malik gave Otogi an approving, alluring stare. “Sleeping naked, honey? Aren't I a lucky man.”

Otogi shrugged as he removed his headband and his own bracelets. “Never been one for underwear.” He stumbled out of bed to use the bathroom himself, smirking at his thoroughly fucked appearance in the mirror over the sink.

When he returned, Malik was tucked up under the covers, eyes closed, and as Otogi got back into bed, facing away from him, Malik reached out an arm and tugged Otogi into a spooning position. “If you don't mind,” Malik chuckled against Otogi's shoulder blade.

“Not at all,” Otogi murmured.

“You have more condoms, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I might wake you up for round two later.”

Otogi grinned. “Deal.”

* * *

It ended up being more like round two and then three. Otogi woke up sore, stiff and with a pounding head, but _fuck_ was he satisfied. What they'd done the previous night was like winning the Lottery of one-night stands.

Malik was already up and dressed in his own clothes, perched on the end of the bed and laughing at something on his phone, but he put it away when he heard Otogi stirring. “Morning!”

“Not so loud,” Otogi groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, honey, if you think I'm loud, wait till Mai sees you when you rock up looking like that to pick up your stuff,” laughed Malik.

“Fuck.” He'd totally forgotten about his mixing gear. “When will she be back at the club?”

“I just texted her. She's still there for another hour or so.” Malik stood up and brushed his hands through his hair. Dark circles from his smudged kohl lingered under his eyes, but other than that he looked bright and alert. “I need to get back home. Text me later, if you like.”

Otogi frowned. “I don't have your number.”

“I put it in while you were asleep,” Malik winked. “You'd best get going! The blonde bombshell doesn't like to be kept waiting.” Off he went, calling, “Later, honey!” from down the hall; the front door clicked a minute later.

Otogi yanked on some clean clothes and ran a brush through his hair, debated whether he was still too drunk to drive, said “fuck it” and hopped into the car. As an afterthought he checked his phone's contacts list, laughing when he saw ‘Egyptian Spice’ listed. Give it a week, and he might give him a call...if he didn't see him around the club before then...if he still had a job there after last night.

Mai burst out laughing when she beheld Otogi trudging slowly through the front doors of the club with a blush on his face. “Well, that's a walk of shame if ever I saw one! Have fun last night?”

“Yeah, um…about that...” Otogi scratched his head sheepishly. “Am I fired?”

“Darling,” Mai smirked, “if I fired every DJ that Malik bedded, I'd be out of business. Now go upstairs, get your stuff, and be here on time next week - don't disappoint me!”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)  
> This author sees and appreciates all comments but may not reply immediately due to sheer forgetfulness.  
> Note: If, for any reason, you want to leave a comment, but would prefer not to receive a reply, feel free to sign your comment with four tildes - ~~~~ - and I will appreciate massively but not respond!


End file.
